Friday night is the time that the week gets put away. Even if we are running on empty, we know that we have to keep going until then. We usually go out for dinner and drink a little more wine than we would on a school night. We come home, shower and go to bed giving in to the fatigue of the week and the impact of the wine, falling into our bed. We make love in a bit of a fog, and remain tangled together as we sleep.
Saturday morning comes quietly, without any alarm waking us. The southern exposure of the bedroom allows the bright sun to stream in. I am awakened another way, one that brings me to consciousness slowly. David is usually up before I am but he lets me sleep a little longer, but just a little. He will uncover me and kiss my body softly. I can feel the kisses as I rouse, but do not give in to being awake except in increments, unwilling to yield to the day. My eyes are still closed as I feel the warmth of him close to me and kisses that feel like gossamer butterfly wings touching me. Morpheus, the god of sleep and dreams, loosens his hold on me as I become more aware of David’s embrace. I love this state between sleep and wakefulness, unsure if the feelings are real or a vivid dream. The fervent desire is to surrender to it and let it take you, with the knowledge that this will be a journey to delight.
The track of his kisses moves from my neck and shoulders, always erogenous, to my breasts. He pays special attention to my nipples, small pink pearls in his lips. He moves lower down my torso and abdomen kissing each freckle to the red blonde silk that marks my sex. He parts my legs and kisses the soft inner skin of my thighs, tantalizing me with what is to come. I open my eyes and look down at his beautiful face. His eyes are dancing as he watches me react to his kisses and his touch and he is grinning. For both of us the anticipation and teasing are as important as the act.